


he should be so lucky

by ang3lba3



Series: A Game of Dragons and Wolves [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, F/M, M/M, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:43:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2239353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lba3/pseuds/ang3lba3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is awesome. Scott! Come tell me how awesome this is.”</p><p>“Hella, man.” Scott said dutifully, not looking away from Allison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he should be so lucky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crossroadswrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/gifts).



Scott and Allison were giggling to themselves in a corner and generally acting like the disgustingly cute in love couple they were. Stiles hoped he didn’t look half as envious as he felt - the last thing he wanted everyone to know was that he wasn’t being sufficiently sexed and loved up.

To start, he should probably stop staring at them longingly.

“Stiles.” Lydia said sharply, and Stiles eyes snapped to her immediately.

She was way more scary when Derek wasn’t around. When Derek was around she was the perfect slave, voice a little acidic but in no way you could call her for. As soon as Derek was out of hearing range, it became incredibly clear just how much she _wasn’t_ a slave.

“Have you heard anything I’ve been saying?”

“Uh.” Stiles wracked his brain for the last thing he could remember. “Something about…”

“Just stop, before you hurt something.” Lydia sighed. “Pack bonding is essential. As the Den Mother, it’s important that you’re close with Derek’s betas.”

“What, _all_ of them?” Stiles asked, blanching. He prided himself on his people skills, but even he couldn’t handle hundreds of thousands.

“Have you even been _listening?_ Don’t answer that.” Lydia said. “Derek’s close pack, like his pack inside the Pack-”

“The inner circle.” Stiles interjected, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively for no reason than he could.

“His _betas_. You need to be close with them.”

“What about Laura?”

“She’s more important, we’re saving her until you have some practice. The betas won’t care much if you fuck up protocol, but you can’t with her. Laura’s Derek’s second and one of his last remaining family members.”

There was a timid knock at the tent’s open flap, and Stiles craned his neck around Lydia’s head to see Isaac swaying side to side nervously.

“Hey pup.” Stiles said, the traditional term of endearment rolling easily off his tongue. “Wanna come in?”

Isaac’s face broke into a relieved grin and he ducked inside.

“So, what’s up?”

“It’s - Lydia said we were doing pack bonding.” Isaac said, flushing as he hovered awkwardly.

“Oh, right, ‘course. Come on, pop a squat.” Stiles bounced up on his feet, wrapping his fingers around Isaac’s hand and pulling him further inside.

He’d just gotten Isaac settled and drinking some tea when he was nearly bowled over by Erica.

Stiles tried not to blush bright red at seeing her - with clothes on, thank the _Gods_ \- and began repeating to himself the stuff Lydia had said about how sex in public (at special events like weddings and feasts) within the Pack was about as notable as someone yawning. If he repeated it loud enough he could almost believe it.

“Hey Ma.” Erica said, pecking him on the cheek as she breezed past him.

Boyd came in before he could get his head around the way she was - Gods help him - conspiring with Lydia.

“Mother.” he said, nodding and rubbing a hand over Stiles’ shoulder as he went to sit by Isaac. Isaac leaned into his side with a sigh of relief, Boyd tucking him under his arm.

Stiles flopped on his stomach in the empty space between Isaac-and-Boyd and Lydia-and-Erica.

“So now that you’re all here.” Stiles began, and Scott groaned. “Dude!”

“What? Nothing, don’t mind me. Stiles is just about to ask you a series of really weird really personal questions.”

“Stop it, they might _leave_.” Stiles hissed, smiling reassuringly at everyone else.

“After that intro something _better_ happen.” Erica said, leaning forward a little from where she’d been fiddling with Lydia’s hair.

Might as well jump straight into it.

“What the hell is up with all the wolf stuff?” Stiles said. “I mean, as far as I can tell it’s not a religious thing and okay maybe if I had giant wolves instead of horses I would get a little carried away but literally _everything_ relates back to dogs somehow. Alpha, Den Mother, betas, pup-”

“Oh my Gods, did no one tell you?” Erica asked.

Stiles decided he didn’t like the look on her face. It was somewhere between ‘unholy joy’ and ‘maniacal glee’.

“I’m gonna go with no.” Stiles said slowly.

Erica let out an honest to gods yip of delight before bouncing to her feet and stripping off her tunic and okay, this better not be his wedding day all over again.  

“Not that I’m not fond of you,” Stiles began in a strangled voice. “But I’m really not that comfortable with the whole public nudity thing you guys have- _what the fuck.”_

Because Erica wasn’t standing in front of him anymore. Erica was a mess of bones shifting under tanned skin and high pitched whines that didn’t sound entirely human. And then there was a…

“Werewolves. Okay.” Stiles totally didn’t squeak this. He _didn’t._ “This makes so much more sense now.”

Erica’s tongue lolled out and Stiles had the distinct feeling she was laughing at him.

“You’re like. A wolf. An entire wolf. How are you a wolf? This is awesome. Scott! Come tell me how awesome this is.”

“Hella, man.” Scott said dutifully, not looking away from Allison.

“Wait. So those wolves - those are wolves right? They don’t turn into humans too, ooh, wait, would they turn into giants-”

“They’re just wolves, Stiles.” Lydia said firmly. “Why don’t you know any of this?”

“Well, as Deaton would say about the wolf obsession-” Stiles put on his best cryptic asshole voice. “Three things cannot long be hidden. The sun, the moon, the truth.”

“What does that even mean?”Allison asked, and oh, they must have decided to pay attention.

Stiles pointed at her and nodded his head furiously. “Exactly!”

Erica huffed something that sounded like the doggy equivalent of a laugh and squirmed her way between Stiles and Isaac to lie down.

“So.” Stiles said, wracking his brain for something they could do together. Bonding, bonding, bonding… “Who wants to play truth or dare?”

-

In the past few days, Derek had learned to stop expecting things when he came into Stiles’ tent. He was still, somehow, surprised when he walked in.

The room stunk of wolfsbane laced wine and happiness. His betas, Stiles’ slaves, Stiles and Scott were collapsed together on the floor in a pile of tangled limbs and soft snores.

Derek grinned, glancing around self consciously and fighting the expression down as soon as it would leave his face. Which - it didn’t. This was his pack, his mate, and the scent of _home_ was almost overwhelming.

He toed out of his shoes and stripped off his shirt before gently scooching Isaac out of the way so he could curl up around Stiles. Isaac made an unhappy noise at being moved before scenting the air sleepily and mouthing the word _Alpha._ When Derek was settled, Isaac scent marked him lazily before smushing his face on Derek’s back and snoring.

Stiles didn’t move as Derek tucked his face into his mate’s neck, though he wiggled a bit when Derek rested a hand on his stomach.

Derek let himself fall into the safety of being surrounded by his pack, and slept.

-

Stiles woke up significantly more alone than when he fell asleep.

The pack and everyone else was gone as far as he could see, though there was someone curled around his back and mouth breathing all over his neck. He glanced down at the hand on his stomach and immediately recognized it as Derek’s. Stiles had spent way too much time thinking about that hand and its _many_ uses to not recognize it on sight.

“No! Shit.” he hissed under his breath, desperately trying to think of anything but the fact that his husband’s hand was only about two inches from some very interesting places.

He glowered at the blanket on the floor in front of him, pattern barely discernible in the dark. It was no use, his mind had gone there and now his dick was half hard in his shorts.

Stiles heaved a sigh, painfully aware of the way Derek’s hand felt against his skin as his stomach moved.

As nice as this was - rather, potentially horrifically embarrassing - Stiles wanted to get up, go to his actual _bed_ on the other side of his tent and try to sleep. When he tried to move, Derek grunted and tugged him in closer. His hand was now less than an inch from where it really should be.

“Derek.” he said softly, praying that Derek would wake up.

He waited a few moments, trying to control the spastic flailing that wanted to make an appearance.

“Derek.” Stiles said a little louder, dying inside.

“No.” Derek groaned, pulling Stiles even closer.

Stiles attempted to not focus on the way that Derek’s crotch was lined up with his ass. However, that just left more of his brain to focus on how very close Derek’s hand was to his dick. When he tried not to think about _that_ , he was left with the way Derek was huffing out little breaths of air on the back of Stiles’ neck, hot and damp.

“Dude, I’m serious, let me up.” Stiles said, pushing against Derek’s arm.

“No.” Derek threw a leg over Stiles, effectively pinning him there.

In the process though, Derek’s hand slipped down about an inch and a half. Stiles hips jerked forward instinctively as he whimpered.

Derek stiffened - and not in the way Stiles would have preferred - and snatched his hand back immediately.

Stiles tried to hide his face in his hands but failed because his arms were pinned awkwardly beneath his body or Derek. “Sorry.” he muttered, biting his tongue before anything damning could spill out.

“It’s. Okay.” Derek said haltingly, breathing heavily through his nose.

“Are you going to let me up?” Stiles asked after a few long seconds of silence.

“Yeah.” Derek said, making no move to do so. He just took long breaths through his nose.

Stiles gave it a couple more seconds in which Derek continued to sniff him.

“You know you haven’t _moved_ yet, right?”

“I’m aware.” Derek grated out, taking another deep breath.

“Then could you stop sniffing me and get with the-”

Stiles absolutely-did-not-even-a-little-bit squeak when Derek’s palm moved to press against the front of Stiles’ shorts. His hips twitched up into it.

“You smell,” Derek traced the outline of Stiles dick and really, Stiles didn’t care how rude that was as long as Derek kept _touching_ him. “Unbelievably good.”

Stiles nodded in fierce agreement. Not with what Derek was saying (because to be honest what Derek was saying was weird), but with the way Derek was untying his shorts.

He gasped in a sharp breath, and then Derek just -

Stopped.

“Uh. Derek?” Stiles said, voice hoarse.

“I’m sorry.” Derek replied, sounding panicked. And then he was standing up and then there was the swish of the tent flap and…

Stiles was alone.

He’d never jerked off so angrily in his _life._

-

After the angry jerking off he was still unbearably turned on and frustratingly alone in his tent. He picked up one of the dragon eggs and set it gently on his bed, getting ready to vent to it.

Stiles’d taken up a habit of speaking to them rather than real people. It was better for everyone involved if no one but him and Derek knew about his (miserable lack of a) sex life.

“You wouldn’t believe it, Mom.” he said morosely to the black-purple egg he’d named after her. “I know I’ve been venting about my… well, about this a lot but - that was just mean. He almost had his hand down my pants and then.. I dunno I like, breathed too loudly or something and he just stopped. And then left. Am I that gross?”

The egg was silent and still, but he liked to think that it was mentally hugging him and reassuring him.

“No, Stiles.” he said, picking the egg up and hugging it as he talked for it in a mimicry of his mother’s voice. “He’s just an asshole who likes to screw with your head. And you’re not a virgin because you’re gross, it’s cuz you would be worth more like this. You were doing it for your kingdom.”

“Yeah, Mom.” Stiles said, cheering up a bit. “He should _be_ so lucky to get all up on this hot piece of action.”

“I love you,” gargle noise three coughs something or other - his mom was the only one who could say his real name.

“Love you too, Mom.” Stiles said, only choking up a little.

He dragged himself off the bed to grab Melissa and Dad - the gold and green eggs - so he could sleep curled up around them. Sometimes, right on the edge of falling asleep, he thought he could feel the thump of a heartbeat under the shell.

Stiles dreamt of the eggs cracking open and his mother and father and stepmother pouring out, of being home in the Capital and stealing treats from the kitchen with Scott, of introducing Derek to his parents and laughing at the overly serious way he held himself. He dreamt of good things and good people, a soft smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr at [this gorgeous blog ;)](ang3lba3.tumblr.com)


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